


Three Nights and Forever

by Aspen (silveraspen)



Category: The Fionavar Tapestry - Guy Gavriel Kay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-22
Updated: 2007-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1639208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveraspen/pseuds/Aspen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for lenija</p>
    </blockquote>





	Three Nights and Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lenija

 

 

Although he would no longer be returning with the others to Toronto, Paul came to the Temple for the crossing that night anyway. 

Kim saw the truth of it in him at once; but then with Kevin gone, she was the one who knew him best, and in any event she was still what she was and what she always would be. As was he. He knew that, now. _I give you to Mörnir_ , Ailell had said, _for three nights and forever_. He had been given and the God had accepted the gift, but he had been sent back as well, Lord of the Summer Tree, and that would remain a part of him until he died a second time.

 _For three nights and forever_. He caught the first real hint of it then, he would later realize. Only a hint, a mere flutter of wings and a whisper of some deeper and yet-hidden secret, before Kim spoke and regained his attention.

"Oh, Paul." As tears began first to well in the grey eyes and then to fall, Dave looked quickly back and forth between them, finally settling on Paul.

"You're not coming, are you."

It wasn't really a question, but Paul answered it all the same. "No, I'm not. I've decided to stay." All too aware of the others watching, among them the tall red-haired priestess who held his heart in keeping with her own, he told them all, "This is where I belong."

"I know." Kim again, with a trembling smile despite the rain of tears. "And it's true, you do. But oh, Paul, we're going to miss you!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely, and he, who had always been both solitary and self-contained, nevertheless was able to easily return _this_ embrace, and then both to shake Dave's hand and to be drawn into a second, bear-like hug from the bigger man, one that for all its awkwardness still somehow seemed right, given everything that the five of them - three now - had in their way shared.

As he stepped back to rejoin the others, Paul saw that Jaelle had herself already come forward, murmuring something to Kim and receiving both an answer and a fierce hug of her own before turning away to beckon Teyrnon and Barak to form the circle. Working together, with a simplicity of ritual that yet did nothing to belie the importance of what was happening, the High Priestess of Dana and the First Mage of Brennin joined their powers to send Kim and Dave back through the space between the worlds, back to Toronto and away from Fionavar, forever.

Forever.

* * * * *

In the days that followed, a deep and lasting quiet seemed to descend upon the whole of Fionavar. True to her word, Jaelle had relinquished her place as High Priestess to Leila once the crossing was done. Within the week, she and Paul were married; without public ceremony, as neither of them was particularly inclined to make a spectacle of something so private. Together they moved into Ysanne's cottage, and there were settled in time for winter's arrival. All that first winter the world remained at peace, and for the most part so too did Paul and Jaelle.

For the most part. Occasionally there were storms, of course, for neither of them had changed their nature when they had joined their lives to each other, and both of them were ever strong-willed enough that conflict was and would ever be a constant - although it was and would remain the lesser of the two certain things between them. At those times it was usually Paul who left the sheltering walls of the little cottage to walk out into the snow. Even though the cold was never as biting in the valley as it was elsewhere - something to do with the lake and what lay within it, he knew - the winter would never affect him, much less harm him. 

He'd learned that the same night he'd faced Fordaetha of Rük over the body of a fallen girl who'd once wept for his sake. Although the death the Ice Queen carried with her touch would have in fact killed him, no lesser cold could do so. It remained just another sign of the change that had been worked deep within him, and as it was one he was already familiar with Paul gave no real thought to it, save to occasionally wonder how Fordaetha found the Barrens now, in these days after Maugrim's passing.

* * * * *

Spring came, and with it came the messenger from Paras Derval, bearing the news of a wedding celebration to come. Paul stared at the invitation in some surprise.

"Aileron and Sharra?"

"The High King of Brennin and the Princess of Cathal," Jaelle replied, glancing up briefly from the note of acceptance she was writing for them both. "It's a good match, Paul." Her words were matter-of-fact, despite the slight impatience in her voice at needing to explain. "Marriages between those in power aren't only made for love, although it helps."

By the time he looked at her, Jaelle had already set her pen aside and half raised her hand as if to call back the words that had escaped.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said, quickly. "I didn't mean us. Besides, I gave up my place, remember?"

It hung in the sudden heavy silence, twisting through the air between them, and when Paul answered, it was the mute thought that he addressed, not the spoken one.

"I couldn't have," he said, and Jaelle nodded. 

"I know." Silence fell again, but only for a second. "After it happened, I was the first to name you. Do you remember?"

"Difficult to forget," Paul murmured. "Twiceborn."

"Twiceborn." Jaelle smiled, a little. "Lord of the Summer Tree." There was an instant's pause, and then she met his eyes and held his gaze. "Do you understand all of what it means, yet?"

"I--" He broke off, looking at her; and as he did he heard again that quick flutter of wings.

"You knew," Paul said, slowly. "All this time you knew."

"Of course I did." Jaelle tossed her head and met his eyes again without any sign of apology. "I may not be High Priestess any longer, Paul, but I still know everything that I learned in Gwen Ystrat and elsewhere. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever realize."

"I should have." Suddenly needing air, he crossed the room to the window before turning back to her, seated still in her chair and watching him with her head held high. "And you should have said something."

"I shouldn't have had to," Jaelle snapped. "You've had ample time to figure it out for yourself, or to use the wit you were born with and ask - if not me, someone. Silvercloak, perhaps. Or your ravens, for that matter." 

"I never thought of it." Paul turned around and stared blankly out toward the lake, gripping the windowsill with both hands until his knuckles turned white. "It never crossed my mind."

Looking back now, he's not sure how he could possibly have missed it for so long. Jaelle was right; he _should_ have known. He had summoned Cernan as an equal in the glade of the Summer Tree; Liranan had called him brother. He had been sent back, made a power himself in Fionavar and so in all the worlds, an affirmation and symbol of life in his very existence, and yet it had never occurred to him what else that might mean, because--

"But I can be killed," he said aloud, and at this Jaelle stood and moved across the room to him, placing one hand on his shoulder.

"You can," she said, briskly. "If you're stupid enough to put yourself in harm's way." More quietly, she added, "It doesn't change anything, Paul."

"How can you say that?!"

"Because it's _true_!" she retorted. "It doesn't! Not between us, anyway. I knew who you were - and yes, _what_ you were - when I fell in love with you." 

"And what am I?" Paul lashed back, bitterly, and at the sting Jaelle turned on him, green eyes blazing with quick temper. Although she looked as though she might have had a great many things to call him, a closer look at his expression caused her to visibly bite back her first response. With a sigh, she reached for his hand, pulling it from the sill and holding it in both of hers.

"Twiceborn," she said again, quietly. "Lord of the Summer Tree. Not immortal, no; but from what the lore says and from what I believe, having now known you, you won't easily perish. You are different from what you were before; more like one of the andain, perhaps, or the _lios_ , if you prefer that."

"And you--"

"I'll live until I die," Jaelle interrupted, sharply. "As everyone does. As you will, yourself. Although you'd better not get any ideas about doing that any time soon."

At this, he choked out a laugh and pulled her close. "Nor you, for that matter."

"Nor I," she agreed, allowing him to draw her head down to rest upon his shoulder and to stroke the flame-red fall of her hair. "Not any time soon."

Now knowing himself marked and set apart in more ways than he'd first thought, he was glad she couldn't see his face. 

 


End file.
